Beautiful Day
by anouk zucker
Summary: We are following House on his 'day off' with Lawrie. Sequel for 'All New', follows directly after 'Beautiful Morning' in 'Lawrence-Verse'. House/Wilson slash, NC-17, smut; Mpreg! no likey, no read! Spoilers up to 6x11 'The Down Low'


**Beautiful day - ****Following House**

When House wakes up for the second time that day it's eight o'clock and the loft is quiet. Wilson had left for work half an hour ago and House had lolled around in bed – it's his day off after all – and Lawrie is letting him sleep just a little longer, mercifully. He gets up to make coffee and looks into the nursery to see if Lawrie is still asleep. He finds him awake and talking to his mobile with the painted wooden animals hanging over the crib. He squawks and screeches and pulls at the yellow duck. When he notices House he smiles hugely and stretches out his small arms. House limps over, carefully lifts him out of the crib and kisses both his cheeks, smiling mildly.

"All better?" He changes Lawrie's diaper – last one they've got left – and dresses him before putting him in his high chair and giving him a piece of banana and his baby bottle with tea. He quickly throws on jeans and shirt, then fixes some oatmeal for Lawrie and a left-over bagel for himself. Lawrie seems in a much better mood after last night's teething pain and slight fever. He eats most of his porridge until he starts to protest and shake his head when House offers him another spoon full.

After checking his e-mails on his laptop while letting Lawrie leaf through his new book 'Baby Touch and Feel – Trucks', he decides he has postponed the trip to the small corner grocery store long enough. After brushing the six little teeth he dresses Lawrie, putting on his thick jacket, scarf and woolen cap which takes ten minutes because Lawrie keeps pulling everything off.

House puts him in the baby carrier, fastens the straps and puts on his sneakers and short winter coat. He looks at the heap of binkies, bottles and rubber nipples on the counter that Wilson had just cleaned the day before and picks one of them. Lawrie accepts the binky and plays with the chain that House fastens to his jacket. He grabs his cane, wallet and keys and leaves the loft.

When he steps out of the elevator he runs into Nora, one of their neighbors. She is really gorgeous and he and Wilson had hit on her when they'd moved into the building, before, well, shortly before _they_ happened. If it hadn't been for her and if there hadn't been that fake proposal, their little family probably wouldn't exist.

"Hey boys! Hi Lawrie, how's it going, cutie? Ooh, love the cap, is that a truck on it?" Lawrie smiles at her around his binky, making one of his pleased noises. House rolls his eyes a little at the obtrusive small-talk but then smiles close-mouthed, widening his eyes and answering for Lawrie, playing the polite game.

"Monster truck!" Nora smiles at him. She long since had forgiven them for being 'mendacious dirtbags' to her. Now they actually were the cute gay couple with an even cuter baby boy, living next door, she'd seen in them when they moved here. He can see her thinking exactly that, shivering.

"Oh, before I forget; I'm having some friends from university over on Saturday afternoon, if you're not busy you two could come with Lawrie." House cringes inwardly. That was a little too much neighborly contact and niceness. She always tried to invite them, introduce them to her friends. But he does not have any intention of playing the bearded lady at the fair. Everyone would be secretly or openly staring at him, asking dumb questions and fawning over Lawrie. He puffs his cheeks looking for a polite decline.

"You know, I can't really say; he's teething and it's a little unpredictable when he'll have another bout. And I might have to work if something comes up. Sorry." He looks apologetically at her. Nora smiles, nodding sympathetically.

"Of course, no problem. But they're great people. I wouldn't have asked otherwise, Greg." She looks at him almost pleadingly. House squirms uncomfortably at her insistence.

"I'll talk to Wilson and we'll think about it. See ya!" He looks down at Lawrie strapped to his waist, righting his cap.

"O.k., great! And my babysitting offer still stands, just call! Bye Lawrie! Say hi to James for me." She rushes to the closing elevator doors, beaming and waving. House exhales a long breath. No way are they going. He grips his cane and limps out the front doors. Lawrie in the carrier adds to the weight his cane arm has to bear and he's only used it a few times for short distances. It is easier to maneuver in small spaces and it is pretty warm, Lawrie is like a stove. And he always enjoys being close to House, he is much calmer. Also, fortunately, most people refrain from touching him all the time, because they would have to reach into House's personal space. The only real exception to that rule is old Mrs. Hyman. She always seems to hang around the corner store when House needs to buy bagels or diapers, and today is no different. She gives a delighted little shout and shuffles over to House to reach up and touch Lawrie's rosy cheeks. Lawrie's eyelids flutter and then his eyes go wide and frightened, a small crease forming between his eyebrows and a distressed whimper sounds from behind his binky. He looks back up at his dad who cradles his head, reassuring him that everything is within normal range.

"He is such a good and adorable little boy, Dr. House. Mazel Tov! I happen to have a little something for him here with me." She always seems to have, House thinks, sighing. He diagnosed her with diabetes a year ago. Since then she acted like she was deeply in his debt. Unfortunately, she did not seem to take her illness quite so seriously and quit the candy or the liqueur. She always smelled a little sugary with a hint of cherry blossoms. She produced a Big Cherry from her bag and held it in front of Lawrie. He looked at her, frowning, then he suddenly comprehends that he's given something and stretches out his hand, smiling, losing the binky in the process. He grabs the little packet and makes his pleased sound.

"There you go, boytshikl." House smiles and thanks her in Lawrie's name, planning to hide the thing as soon as possible, so Lawrie won't miss it and make a scene.

When he steps out of the store, diapers in hand his cell phone plays 'Mmbop'. He fumbles with it. On the other end Foreman tells him they have a new case and that it would be better if he came in. House completes the call and looks at his baby son. Lawrie looks back at him, a tad pouty, eyes big, as if he senses that he's not going to get his dad's full attention for the next few hours. It always begins with this little box that plays music when one of his daddies has to leave.

"Sorry." He strokes Lawrie's cheek tenderly. Then he picks up the diapers, takes his cane and heads home to get his and Lawrie's things. He has to find someone to look after Lawrie while he's working on the new case. He realizes he's a bit happy, too, that Foreman called. He's actually glad not to sit at home any more doing remote diagnoses. He wants to direct again, be there, be in the middle of it. He wants to throw ideas around, bounce them off his fellow's heads, he wants to argue, to snark and make them look like idiots. He enjoys being in his element again.

He decides not to bother with calling a babysitter, it just costs money, or it means talking to Nora, and he's counting on Wilson to help him or on his team to multitask anyway. So plan A is to drop Lawrie at Wilson's office and plan B, less convenient, to get his team to diagnose and babysit at the same time. It's something he's done for the last couple of months, why shouldn't they manage?

When he stands in front of Wilson's office he takes Lawrie out of the stroller and barges in.

"Your son needs you." Two pairs of big, blue Houseian eyes look at Wilson who sits behind his desk opposite a patient, frozen in mid-sentence. Lawrie smiles at him with all his six teeth, squeaking at the sight of his 'Daddy Cool', as House calls him occasionally since Wilson had danced to it with Lawrie on his arm. Wilson gets up and apologizes to his patient.

"Will you excuse me for a moment, please? Two minutes." He crowds House out of his office and closes the door.

"Is something wrong? Hey there, sweetie." He kisses Lawrie, touching his brow in the process, worried. "Is he sick?"

"He's fine. Still teething. I need you to take care of him for a few hours. Got a new case." House looks intently at him. Wilson pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling harshly.

"House. I have appointments until almost noon and a staff meeting until at least one. I can't just cancel. Why didn't you ask Nora? Her number is on the fridge and she said we could call her at short notice." He strokes Lawrie's cheek apologetically, nodding a little as Lawrie talks to him in baby newspeak, possibly telling him about his day.

"Yeah, I don't trust her, she hit on us! I have trust issues, you said it yourself… What do you want me to do, leave him with one of the nurses? Doesn't Oncology have a day care? Or we could drop him off in Sm_å_land – ."

"Don't even try to blackmail me!" Long suffering sigh, pinched lips, hands on hips. Yes, he's folding!

"I have time after the meeting, that's in two hours. We go to lunch and if your case turns out to take more time I'll take him home with me to nap. I can do paperwork at home. But next time you call Nora! She lives in the same building and she wants to be our emergency-nanny – and you agreed to this! Aaaand we'll talk to the guys at day care, maybe they'll agree to take Lawrie in at any time." He kisses Lawrie again and turns to his office. "Now, you have four employees, use _them_ as babysitters!"

House sighs and looks at his son who is chewing on his finger, drooling over it and looking at him expectantly. That didn't go too well, and he still has two hours to cover. The team it is, then. He sucks his teeth, then winks at Lawrie and puts him into theEasywalker.

He pushes open the door to the conference room with the stroller until Thirteen gets up to help. Foreman, Chase and Taub look up from reading the case file.

"Sorry, you had to start without me", he announces, "I have this little _thing_ I'm engaged in on the side. And this other, bigger thing I'm engaged_ to_ who won't cooperate." Everyone looks at him surprised.

"Is he going to sit in on the differential?" Taub asks in this soft, slightly ironic voice, inclining his head in the direction of the stroller.

"Yes. Yes, he is. Good to start early. He's taking Chinese classes as well. I couldn't be more proud." He takes off Lawrie's small jacket and soft woolen cap. Chase has gotten up to greet them and House takes the opportunity and hands him Lawrie.

"Say 'hi' to our kind ex-midwife and nanny for the day – Chase."

When Chase sits down with Lawrie on his lap Thirteen and Foreman lean over the table to have a closer look at the pink CBGB baby t-shirt, smiling at Lawrie who looks around with big eyes, his head turning with the little, unsteady, wobbly movements of toddlers still not used to the weight of their – in proportion – big heads.

"Hey there, little House, you have grown so much since our last differential together! House, he really takes after you, drooling all over the case files." Thirteen gets a beaming, six-toothed smile with a long thread of said drool slowly descending from Lawrie's mouth to the table for her comment.

"He's teething. What do you have on the case so far?"

While the team fills him in House puts Lawrie on his baby blanket on the ground and gives him his stuffed animals Toe and Tarantula. He also gets the model of the human brain from the shelf and Ball-y to play with. Lawrie is capable of playing on his own, at least for a while.

After Brain-y and Ball-y have been inspected, drooled on and talked at, Lawrie sets out to discover the room and, unfortunately, bangs his head on one of the shelves, exclaiming that with a piercing cry and lots of tears. He's bawling in his daddy's arms, House cradling his head and looking anxiously over to Wilson's office, willing Lawrie to stop.

After this little incident Chase gets to hold Lawrie on his lap again. They look at his book 'I See a Cow' together, Chase pulls faces for him and they play toss the pencil until people refuse to pick the damn thing off the floor. He tries to prevent Lawrie from completely drenching the case file with drool and from pulling Thirteen's hair. When Lawrie notices Taub sitting next to him he is immediately fascinated by him, studying him, smiling, hiding his face behind chubby hands, squeaking and screeching high-pitched in delight. He seems to be truly in love with Taub who keeps talking about the case, but distractedly glimpses at Lawrie and can't help but be flattered, his mouth twitching in a tiny smile.

Lawrence is happy, until he seems to get impatient with all the strangers around him and even Chase isn't enough. He wants his daddy. Mewling pitifully and looking at his dad he makes grabbing gestures, demanding to be picked up. House rolls his eyes but limps over to swoop Lawrie up, hold him high over his head, let him descend to his face and pretend to bite his neck with a snarl. Lawrie cackles in delight and looks in awe at his dad. He stretches out his small arms and touches House's face. House scowls at him but kisses his brow and puts him on his hip. Until House sends his team off for tests Lawrie gets to stay on his arm, trying to grab the black marker and repeating monosyllabic words like "bah", assumingly imitating his father.

When House is alone in the conference room he takes out the jar with parsnip mash that Wilson made, the plastic spoon and a mull cloth. It is past Lawrie's lunch time and he will be getting tired soon. Lawrie, sitting on his baby blanket, starts to rock excitedly and makes urgent humming noises that gradually turn into sobs when the food preparing takes way too long. House picks him up, puts him on his lap and announces,

"Open the hangar – here comes the plaaaaane."

Lawrie immediately stops sobbing, opening his little mouth wide as the first spoon full comes flying and makes pleased sounds at his dad, smiling through the pulpy mass.

Sometimes he can't believe Lawrie is almost eight months old now. He can sit on his own, discovers the world around him by crawling and his favorite dishes are mashed parsnip and blueberry and banana pulp. He's really friendly to almost everyone and smiles and laughs a lot. Must be Wilson's influence. Although his mom told him that he'd been a very friendly and happy baby as well when she visited for Christmas. She'd made him two albums with baby and childhood photos and gave him his dad's old Super 8 projector and the box with films. She had insisted that he keep them.

"It's not that I was going to sit there at home and watch them all by myself. We'll watch them together some time when I visit, and you can show them to James and Lawrie. I think James would love that!" He hasn't watched them since and he and Wilson almost had a fight over that. Wilson thought it was cute to watch young House and fuss over him. But House didn't want to watch himself or his dad. He didn't want the memories, didn't know what they would possibly trigger. And he didn't want to think about how he's probably going to screw up his own son.

He watches Lawrie eat his parsnip, his little arms fawning, little fingers pointing at the jar with his meal, repeating "mum-mum", his pre-word for everything food. He smirks at Lawrie's enthusiasm, at least _he_ is a fan of Wilson's cooking.

When Wilson finally picks them up for lunch, Lawrie is getting tired and impatient, missing his nap. House has to carry him down to the cafeteria because he doesn't want to sit in his stroller or be on Wilson's arm, securing that with angry bawling. As sweet as it is that House is Lawrie's number one it can be slightly inconvenient at times. And Wilson's look of disappointment at his son's rejection is plain pitiable, even in House's eyes. Wilson gets them a table, leaving their things there and joins House and Lawrie in the line. Lawrie is on House's arm and when House places his order, he looks down and starts to play with House's shirt buttons. He latches onto one and makes sucking noises. House ignores it and just puts Lawrie on his other hip. Lawrie looks at his chest again and suddenly puts his hand inside House's shirt, pinching the skin lightly, smacking his lips. An amused frown on his face, House carefully untangles the little hand. The following, piercing cry and desperate sobs let the whole cafeteria freeze in shock. House grimaces, throws Wilson a dirty look and strides over to their table. He retrieves Lawrie's spare baby bottle with tea, cradles him in his arm and gives him his bottle, holding him close to his chest to imitate nursing and to block out some light. Lawrie actually quiets, clutches a small fist into House's shirt and looks up at him with tired, teary eyes, suckling. As Wilson comes with their trays House snaps at him.

"You better make it a quick meal. He's not going to fall for this for too long. He's really tired and he just remembered good old breastfeeding-times." House grabs a few fries from his plate and munches them. Wilson looks at him, irritated, eyes narrowed, head inclined.

"I know he's tired. He's been up a lot last night, which you reminded me of with an elbow to the ribs every time you got up! It was your turn! I let you sleep when it's my turn!" Wilson digs into his fries, angrily stabbing them. House looks at him mischievous, chin lowered, eyes glinting.

"You didn't complain this morning when I let you poked me wi –"

"House! Don't say it! We've had our grand scene of the day with Lawrie. No need for another shocker." Wilson dabs his mouth with a napkin, then empties his glass of juice in one go.

"Looking forward to tonight? You wanna pick up where we stopped? Too bad, not gonna happen!" House leers at him. Wilson stands up to slip into his coat and leans in close to House's ear, his voice low and breathy, his lips brushing House's lobe.

"As if you were capable of withholding sex. I am looking forward to tonight – maybe we could shower together or I give you a massage, hm?" House shivers, his eyes averted. Wilson pecks him on the cheek and smiles at House's slight scowl. Then he feels someone tug at his tie. He picks Lawrie up from House's arms and lets him inspect his tie, so he is distracted from being moved.

In the lobby Wilson takes over the stroller but keeps Lawrie on his arm. House kisses Lawrie and says a quick goodbye, telling him he sees him in a few hours, regretting having to part with him. Lawrie blinks a few times and then tries to reach for House, making distressed noises that morph into mewling when Wilson walks in the direction of the entrance doors. As House turns around he finds himself face to face with his team, announcing that the tests were all negative. One kid gone, another four pop up.

"Come with Daddy!" They follow him into the elevators, riding Daddy's coattail.

When House gets home after 7, he finds Wilson feeding Lawrie in his high chair at the kitchen counter. Lawrie screeches in delight at his daddy's arrival, starting to babble.

"Solved the case!" House kisses Lawrie and then Wilson on the mouth, and joins them, pulling up one of the stools.

"That was fast. Is the patient alive?" Wilson quips, holding another spoon full of blueberry-banana pulp in front of Lawrie's mouth.

"Yes!" House glares at him. "Osteosarcoma in the humerus – she's still in surgery. But she'll be fine. It was small. How did the little prince behave?" He lets Lawrie grab his index finger, stroking his small hand with his thumb.

"He missed you. He cried on our way home, then he slept for two hours, then had some spelt cookies and tea, then we went shopping and made dinner. We ran into Nora in the elevator and she invited the three of us over on Saturday." Wilson looks at him expectantly. House writhes on his chair, making his 'damn' face.

"She seems to be omnipresent – she's lurking behind her door to jump out when she sees one of us!"

"I said we would think about it."

"Very clever. That's what I said, too. Politest way of saying no, without saying no. I'm not going!"

"We _are_ going! Let's see if you can come up with a cunning plan to avoid the thing." Lawrie yawns hugely and rubs his eyes with small fists. He whimpers and makes grabbing gestures at Wilson. It's Wilson's turn to tuck him in tonight.

When Lawrie is ready for bed, Wilson brings him into the living room for a lullaby and a goodnight kiss. It's a ritual – one song on guitar or piano before bed.

House plays Maurice Jarre's 'Lawrence of Arabia', Wilson watching with Lawrie on his arm, wrapping a piece of white mull around Lawrie's head, swaying a little, smiling.

Wilson tucks him in and Lawrie is out in under three minutes, exhausted from the day's events. Wilson watches him sleep for a few moments, taking in his steady breathing, the slight sucking noises from his mouth and the eyes shut in oblivious sleep.

When Wilson enters the living room, House is still tinkering on the keys, little playful, blues-y fragments. He comes up behind him and slings his arms around House, a warm palm coming to rest low on his belly, the other sliding inside his shirt, cupping his chest, kissing the side of his neck and inhaling him. House's breath hitches slightly and he leans into him, turning his head to let Wilson capture his lips and kiss him slowly and thoroughly. When he pulls back House asks him breathily,

"What about that massage you mentioned earlier to get into my pants?" House tips his head further back, letting Wilson caress his neck and then slide his hand down to his shirt buttons, slowly opening two more; all the while he is looking into House's eyes.

"Well, this is part of it. It's an erotic massage." He smirks and slides down next to House on the bench, facing away from the piano. He takes the lapels of House's shirt and carefully spreads them, pulling them down over his shoulders, letting his eyes rake over collarbones, the dip between his pectoral muscles, the fine dust of hair and the sweet tasting nipples. He gradually leans down, his mouth nearing skin, he can already smell it. He lets his open mouth ghost over House's chest, breathing hotly on him. House's deep, shaky breaths through his nose show Wilson the state of his arousal, his chest rising and falling more and more rapidly, and he's subtly arching into the hot and breathy caresses. When Wilson halts over an already pebbled nipple and finally latches onto it, all air escapes House's lungs in a rush, a soft, high-pitched sigh carried along by it. Wilson feels his penis swell in an amazing down rush of blood to his groin, making him hiss. He grips House's waist firmly, letting his open mouth drag over his skin up to his neck, groaning into it with a new wave of arousal. He needs House, needs him to be under him, needs him to take him inside, spread his long legs and wrap them around him, to be gently rocked by his thrusts, moaning sweetly. Wilson groans again, dick twitching deftly, wetly kissing House's neck.

"Oh god, bedroom!" He can hear House exhale a short laugh. He feels a hand on the side of his face, House's slender fingers bringing them face to face, tracing his high cheekbones and the soft bow of his lips, looking at him, eyes hooded, out of breath.

"Alright, let's fill a condom. Your incomplete massage has moved and appeased me." Wilson snorts. He carefully gets up, his arousal almost making it impossible to do anything but one thing.

"I promise to finish with a deep massage, without using my hands." House screws up his face in a grimace.

"Stop talking!"

When they reach the bedroom they're naked. When Wilson slides into House they groan with held back pleasure. When they come they cry out in relief. And when Lawrie starts to bawl ten minutes after, it's Wilson's turn to get up.

END – House lying in bed, satiated, smiling and naked, Wilson in his burgundy robe walking up and down in the nursery with Lawrie on his arm, trying to soothe him. Desmond Dekker & the Aces's 'Isrealites' playing, credits rolling. I hope nobody's fallen asleep. Thanks for reading.

**A/N**: Timeline: Summer 2009 Mayfield; fall/winter 2009 move into loft, they get together and Lawrence is conceived; summer 2010 birth; 8 month later, present, late winter 2011. I'll also pretend that "The Down Low" is set in early December 2009 so it fits the events in the story.

One complete line is stolen from 'Let Them Eat Cake' – 'Open the hangar, here comes the plane!'

'boytshikl' (pronounced 'chickle') is Yiddish and means sweet/darling young boy.

'Daddy Cool' is by Boney M. among others.

EasyWalkers are awesome Dutch strollers (maybe they could sponsor this story!)


End file.
